Over three days ago, Kevin "Fragmaster" Bowen wrote a hard-hitting Something Awful front page story entitled, "I Was a Pre-Teen Psychopath (Part 2)." This was one of my mother's favorite updates, so I figured I should write a follow-up about my own fantastic literary and artistic accomplishments because I'm lazy and this type of thing is easy to do.
According to my parents, I created an epic saga entitled "Atack [sic] of the 300 Foot Apple Head" when I was in first grade, which clearly puts me light years ahead of Kevin "Fragmaster" Bowen's Big Chief Tablet chicken scrawls and lusts for murder he created at the same age. While Kevin was carving the word "BLOOD" into his arms and diagramming every painfully banal aspect of his parents' computer set up, I was penning masterpieces rife with drama and action. I don't think I need to even point out that I was a much cuter and well rounded child than Frags at that age, or, hell, any age for that matter. Compare and contrast the following conclusive proof, my friends:
Kevin "Fragmaster" Bowen. I'm sure his mother used to say "honey, don't worry, some day you'll grow into those glasses," but I think his glasses ended up outgrowing his face.
As you can see, I thoroughly trashed Frags on the cuteness meter. I also decimated him on the "non-psychotic" meter as well, since I never wrote anything even remotely resembling Kevin's utterly insane quasi-erotic infatuation with blood. My obsession with death and destruction was much more PG-rated, as you'll soon realize in my magnum opus, "Atack of the 300 Foot Apple Head."
I'm not exactly sure what possessed me to decorate a plastic black cover with white crayon for this story, but I'm sure it has some very deep and meaningful reason, possibly something about how the Apple Head is a classic working man's anti-hero. You've probably noticed that the word "attack" is spelled in a festive, alternative fashion, and the phrase "Apple Head" is in cursive. Also, upon closer examination, I realize the so-called "300 foot Apple Head" does not seem to be anywhere near 300 feet tall, at least compared to the Native American he's chasing with his monstrous straw hand. Are we supposed to believe that the "300 foot" Apple Head is pursuing Native Americans who are easily one-third his size? 100-foot tall Indians with arms growing from their groin and their 80-foot tall flaming dogs? What kind of story did I write? Why did I write this? And, more importantly, why did "MAC PNEUMATIC SERVICE CENTER" provide me with paper to do so?
The story starts off with an epic battle between the 300 Foot Apple Head and his enemies, who appear to be a healthy mixture of GI Joes, Star Wars spaceships, those little pillboxes from the arcade game "Commando," and many other dangerous forms of basic geometry. It's also the only page of the book with colors, which is probably for the better once you realize I'd undoubtedly go through an entire year's supply of yellow and browns before reaching page seven. Back then, I liked jumping right in to the story and grabbing my audience by the neck, and this introduction is no exception. Character development is for pussies; I mean, come on, he comes out on the first page and brazenly announces he's the 300-foot Apple Head in addition to warmly greeting the readers. What else do you need? It's a story about an Apple Head who is 300 feet tall, and I think the story does an excellent job of conveying this crucial information. Page two shows a gigantic explosion, one which blows off the stem / Shriner's hat from the 300-Foot Apple Head's head and additionally causes him to fly into the air on the next page. All the scenery and vehicles of mass destruction from the first page seem to have mysteriously vanished, instead replaced by a series of what appears to be giant poofy wigs. Oh, and it seems the 300 Foot Apple Head lost his torso somewhere in between pages one and three. Tremendous explosions of hairpieces will do that to you, I guess.
The 300 Foot Apple Head begins a mysterious journey into a neverending series of rectangles, then leaps into the stratosphere and cruises over the Earth, shortly before touching down and slamming somebody to the ground. The foreboding threat "nobody gets in my way!" reverberates across the globe, slightly annoying the nearby large cactus creature with darts sticking out of it. For reasons I cannot yet comprehend by using every available unit of horsepower in my brain, the 300 Foot Apple Head has grown arms from his weird new locations on his body, in addition to sprouting a leg from the side of his neck. Perhaps he was engaging in some festive dance move with radioactive waste when somebody "got in his way," thus causing him to unleash his fury upon him and his mutant friend. I don't blame him, really; long flights always make me cranky too.
Things go from bad to worse to... more worser as the 300 Foot Apple Head shoots some magic lightning bolt waves out of his hands and vaporizes a man composed solely of french fries, unaware of the "TNT" being dropped onto him from above. Another slight continuity error creeps up here, as the 300 Foot Apple Head's skull seems to have shrunk while his lower torso inflates like a balloon. Additionally, the "TNT" must be absolutely huge, as it's easily half his size now. 150-foot tall dynamite! Finally, the key weapon the US Army needs to rid the planet of those damned 100-foot tall Indians and their flaming pets. Page nine introduces a new character, one I call "Chompy," who bites into the 300 Foot Apple Head's ankle and, I guess, makes something explode. I don't know what to say here; I really liked explosions when I wrote this. The lightning bolts required a lot of work in the previous page, as the protagonist's legs seem to have not only shrank by 400%, but also grown to four times their original length. Also his shoes appear to be chemically bonded to his legs. I would like to credit one of these factors to the subsequent explosion, but I really can't dream up a reason why. Oh, and check out the tiny explosion in the upper right. Maybe that's his Shriner's hat blowing up.
Okay, here's where things start to get a little sketchy. Apparently the large explosion on the previous page caused the 300 Foot Apple Head's shoes to fly off. I guess it also transformed them into a fashionable pair of women's high heels, because I don't remember them looking like that when Chompy was attacking. The 300 Foot Apple Head has changed once again, losing his chest and growing what appears to be broccoli crowns from his legs. His head, which is now even smaller than previous shrinkages, exclaims, "my shoes!" You know, for the people out there who couldn't grasp the complexity of the scene lying before them. HEY GUYS, HIS SHOES FELL OFF! DO YOU NEED TO SEE THE CLIFF'S NOTES FOR THIS SECTION? Another explosion follows, vaporizing his shirt. If you'll look closely, you can see the two nipples I drew on the 300 Foot Apple Head's neck. I was convinced nipples grew on necks up until around the sixth grade or so, and the only reason I stopped thinking that then was because somebody told me they grew on your ass. "My shirt!" the Apple Head shouts, his neck nipples and broccoli feet exposed to the world. Things sure aren't looking good for our hero!
Another explosion, which isn't really that surprising. However, the next panel is bizarre for a number of reasons. First of all, the 300 Foot Apple Head's skull has turned into a light bulb. Secondly, he is missing his pants, and his legs are a series of ping pong balls trapped inside paper towel tubes. Our hero screams "my pants!" while flailing his broccoli hands and feet. Finally, something weird is going on below, as the ground seems to have transformed into a giant fat bunny rabbit. What does all this mean? Who knows, it's probably just filler material in between crap blowing up. I honestly can't imagine why I drew so many stupid explosions in this book. I must've sat down and thought, "boy, I sure love it when things blow up on 'The A-Team,' what if I created a book that revolved completely around that?" Then I sat back, thought about it for a bit, and came to the conclusion that it would be an absolutely horrible idea... UNLESS I INCLUDED A 300 FOOT APPLE HEAD WITH A SHRINER'S HAT, NECK NIPPLES, AND BROCCOLI APPENDAGES STANDING ON A JOYFUL OBESE RABBIT! There's another explosion and, whoo boy, we've reached the thrilling climax!
This part's kind of tricky because I have no idea what's going on in the first panel there. I think a giant cotton ball fell on an escalator and made it blow up. This revealed the 300 Foot Apple Head's deadly secret: he was a robot controlled by a very unhappy little man inside its brain! What an amazing plot twist! This is like "Signs," "The Sixth Sense," and "Bullworth" all rolled into one single epic novel! Who would've guessed! Maybe the grade school psychologist, but that's really about it!
As you can see, "Atack of the 300 Foot Apple Head" is a magnificent work of art which helped established my considerable talent at an early age. I sincerely doubt anybody out there could draw large quantities of explosions better than I, and if you even attempt to suggest that Kevin "Fragmaster" Bowen could compete on a pure "blowing up" level of quality, I would laugh at you until one or possibly both of us are blue in the face.
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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